Overheard
by allthingsdecent
Summary: Tiny story about House and Cuddy's unbreakable connection.


Wilson could hear them from all the way down the hall.

House called Cuddy the "wicked bitch of the east" and Cuddy called House an "emotional pygmy" and then he called her a "bureaucratic fishwife" and she called him a "slobbering troglodyte," and on they went, exchanging colorful insults back and forth.

Chase emerged from the differential room, rubbing his head.

"Christ," he said.

"How long have they been going at it?" Wilson asked, peering into House's office. Cuddy had her arms folded and was pacing; House was sitting at his desk, yelling and pointing.

"Oh, they're just getting warmed up," Chase said.

"And this one is about?"

"Insurance forms, I think. Or maybe inventory. . .they all tend to blur together."

"That they do."

"They're driving me mad, Wilson," Chase groaned. "How much longer do you think they're going to keep at it like this?"

"Well, let's see. House went through his emotional basketcase period. Then he went through his 'giving Cuddy the silent treatment' period. In retrospect, I will always look back on that period with fondness. . . "

"As will I," Chase said.

"And now they seem to be in the 'I know you are, but what am I?' period. For a normal broken up couple, this might last a few weeks. With them, who knows? It could go on indefinitely."

From House's office, they could hear Cuddy say, "That's ironic, coming from an overgrown toddler like you!" and House responding, "Why don't you go back to your office, you glorified administrative assistant?"

Cuddy stormed out, brushing past Chase and Wilson in the doorway, without saying a word.

They watched her clomp down the hall.

"Indefinitely?" Chase said.

"Afraid so."

A few days later, Wilson went to House's office.

House was filling out some form in what appeared to be invisible ink. No doubt, another ploy to torment Cuddy.

"Can you do me a favor?" Wilson asked.

"I already said I'm not pet-sitting that damn cat for you. Unless, of course, you want to come home to a dead cat."

"Not that. . .Can you please lay off Cuddy today?"

"Why on earth would I do that?" House said. He held up the blank form, blew on the invisible ink, shined a decoder light on it, and smiled proudly.

"Because she received some upsetting news this morning."

House looked up from his handiwork.

"What kind up upsetting news?"

"A friend of hers from college died in a car accident."

House's eyes narrowed.

"Which friend?"

"Carol somebody?"

"Carol Brody?"

"Yeah, that sounds right."

House put the paper down and stood up, rather abruptly. "They were close. They used to talk on that video chat thing all the time," he said.

"Which is why it would be better if you laid off her for a few days," Wilson said. Then he added hopefully: "Or maybe permanently?"

"Is she okay?"

"She's keeping a stiff upper lip, as is her wont. But she's clearly very upset about it."

House started limping with purpose toward the door.

Wilson followed.

"Where are you going?"

"To see Cuddy obviously."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, House," Wilson protested. He almost had to run to catch up to House, who was moving with surprising alacrity toward the elevator.

"She needs me," House said.

"You're the last thing she needs right now."

"You don't know what she needs," House said.

The elevator came. Both House and Wilson got in.

"House, don't be a jerk."

House ignored him. They had arrived at the 1st floor. House hobbled toward Cuddy's office as Wilson silently castigated himself for telling him anything at all.

He watched House enter Cuddy's office, prepared to apologize to her later for his mistake.

"I just heard," House said.

Cuddy looked up. When she saw House standing there, her face—which had been an impenetrable mask only half an hour earlier—dissolved into tears.

House approached her. She stood up. They embraced. She was sobbing now, and House was holding her tightly.

"It's okay," he kept saying. "I'm here."

Wilson watched them silently. He had been wrong. House knew what she needed, after all.


End file.
